


Laserstring

by Mura



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mura/pseuds/Mura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil buys a toy for Khoshekh.</p><p>WARNING:  This is a Khoshekh angst fic.  If you don’t want to read about a mutilated animal and/or dementia-like symptoms, you might want to avoid this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laserstring

It had been the best $2.99 Cecil had ever spent. He'd only intended to pick up some extra food for the cat (the one who had just recently appeared hovering in the men's bathroom of the radio station), but the various brightly-colored pet toys had caught the host's eye, and he decided it wouldn't hurt to at least have a look. Oh, sure, there was all the usual stuff: the hieroglyphic chew toys, the catnip-laced balloons, and of course the incorporeal armchair decoys. But what intrigued him was a small plastic package with the word "LASERSTRING" written in bright, smiling letters on the front. "All the naive optimism of lasers paired with the ultimate futility of string!" boasted the package. "Keep your pet occupied for hours! Or, if you'd prefer, ask the string questions about the nature of existence and take comfort in its silent retorts! Or use it to tie your shoes or something. We really don't care." Cecil had shrugged and added it to his cart, already mentally preparing himself for the mandatory Barry Manilow trivia that all customers were required to answer during check-out at the Night Vale Safeway.

He knew it had been a good purchase as soon as he pulled the Laserstring out of his pocket in front of Khoshekh for the first time. The cat's eyes grew wide, utterly transfixed on the brightly-colored strand, as if it were the most strange and fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Cecil waved it in front of his face and watched as the animal swatted and grabbed at it. A true hunter at heart. After about a dozen seconds of this, Khoshekh finally managed to trap the sting between his paws, which he then promptly pulled toward himself and gripped between his teeth. Cecil chuckled and scratched the cat behind his ears, and Khoshekh purred at his victory and at the attention.

This became a regular activity for them. Whenever Khoshekh would see Cecil reaching into his pocket, the cat's tendrils began flailing eagerly, waiting for the Laserstring to be revealed. Occasionally a new intern would be disturbed by what sounded like an ungodly mix of growls and screeches coming from the bathroom - but Cecil thought Khoshekh's playful noises were adorable. After besting the string, the hovering cat would relinquish it back to Cecil, and the two of them would share a silent, satisfied look of comradery.

But today Khoshekh is not hovering in the men's room of the radio station. Today he's lying on the couch in Cecil's living room. Or at least what's left of him is. One of his legs has been amputated, having been mangled beyond repair in the attack. Scars and stitches hide beneath the bandages that cover what remains of the side of his body. He's awake - he's been awake for awhile now. His gaze drifts slowly from object to object, but doesn't quite seem to focus on anything. Or anyone. Even as Cecil sits on the floor at eye-level with his friend, the cat doesn't seem to pay any more attention to him than he does to anything else. Cecil keeps hoping that with enough time and gentle words, Khoshekh's eyes will once again meet with his and there will be some inkling of recognition. But it hasn't happened yet and with each passing minute, Cecil feels more and more hopeless. The doctors had told him that Khoshekh had lost a lot of blood and that he had suffered some brain damage, but surely there must be something he can do make his cat remember him. What can he...

Of course! The Laserstring! Given all the drama from earlier today, it had completely slipped Cecil's mind! He reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. He stands and steps back a little, before leaning forward and dangling the bright string in front of its biggest fan. He wiggles it, waiting for Koshekh's eyes to light up and for his tendrils to start moving in excitement. He swings it back and forth, eager for Khoshekh to swat at it and try to claim it as his own.

But there is nothing. Nothing more than a passing glance at the string the cat had once treasured. And still no recognition of the man who had once been his best friend.

Maybe he just needs some time, Cecil tells himself silently. Maybe he'll go back to being the cat I knew, Cecil pretends to believe. Maybe one day Khoshekh's eyes will be lucid and Cecil's eyes will be dry, and they'll once again share a look of comradery. It could happen. Maybe. It could happen.


End file.
